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She could have sworn she’d closed it earlier. She opened it wider, but the animal stood his ground. He had a lean, hungry look about him. Whatever the conditions of his residence, Sara was certain he wasn’t happy with them. He was obviously lonely, too, to seek her out—a total stranger—and she wondered when he’d had his last meal.
    “Don’t they feed you, Nero?” she said. She hadn’t finished everything on her plate at dinner, and she wished now that she’d thought to tuck something into her serviette for him, since she’d been hoping he’d return. “I have nothing for you now,” she said, “but the next time you visit me I shall . . . I promise. Now, you need to go back to the servants’ quarters before someone catches you out. Go!” she charged, shooing him away with a hand gesture. But he stood his ground, staring up at her with those penetrating red-fire eyes.
    What a soulful expression for a dog. Of course, he couldn’t understand what she was saying, but she was certain he would respond to her tone. She knew how to gentle dogs, and horses, too, come to that, but this dog was . . . different. He seemed to understand every word.
    “What am I to do with you?” she scolded. “You cannot stay here. One bark, one howl, and we are found out. Then I shall be called to task, and God alone knows what will happen to you.”
    Still Nero stood his ground, and Sara poked her head out into the corridor. Candle sconces dotted the walls, but only half were lit. She looked both ways. The hallway was deserted, and she pulled her wrapper close around her against the drafts, and stepped over the threshold.
    “I suppose I could walk you down to the servants’ quarters,” she said. “It isn’t that far. The door is doubtless closed, and you won’t be able to get below stairs otherwise, will you? Is that what you’re trying to say, Nero? What I want toknow is how you got out. There must be another entrance. I don’t suppose you’ll show me, will you, boy?” The animal made no move to comply. He nuzzled her hand with his cold, wet nose, and followed her into the corridor.
    “Yes, I love you, too, you poor wretched creature,” she soothed, ruffling his shaggy coat. “Well, come on, then, we shall have to do this quickly.”
    Nero padded along beside her. His nails made no sound here the way they did in the downstairs hall, where there was no carpet. She could detect his step just the same. They had nearly reached the landing, when he bolted and streaked on ahead of her.
    “
Nero!
” she cried out, as loud as she dared. There was a dreadful echo in the house, amplified by the storm, and voices carried. “Come back here!” Still the animal ran on toward the landing, and disappeared in the shadows.
    Sara lost sight of him before she reached the staircase, and she hurried down to the first-floor landing, but the green baize door that led below was closed, as she knew it would be, and Nero was nowhere in sight. Why hadn’t she brought a candle branch? The halls beyond the servants’ quarters door were black as coal tar pitch. She ventured halfway down one, calling to Nero in hoarse whispers, but there was no sign of him, and she turned back when she nearly fell over a settle. It was no use; he was on his own. Why hadn’t he waited for her—or answered her call? He seemed such an intelligent animal. She was so sure he understood her.
    When she reached the green door, she tried the knob. It was locked. There was nothing she could do for Nero now even if she did find him. Unless one of the servants had let him in when he came down, he was abroad for the night, and she prayed Nicholas wouldn’t find him.
    There was nothing to be done but go back to her suite, and she started toward the landing, only to pull up short, her hand frozen to the newel post. Nicholas was descending from the third-floor stairwell barefoot, wearing a burgundysatin dressing gown. It gapped in front, exposing a patch of dark hair that